


Back-Dated

by flawedamythyst



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-16
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-16 18:32:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: I look pretty young, but I'm just back-dated.





	

 

Peter's sure that it's wrong that when he pictures Edmund, it's not how he is now, but how he was just before they left Narnia - broad-shouldered and just slightly taller than Peter, his voice the rough, deep tones of an adult. Every time he turns around now and sees Edmund, he's shocked all over again by just how young he is. It seems so wrong that someone who once pushed Peter against the wall in the secret passage to the Treasury and kissed him hard enough that his lip split should be just a boy again.

He's sure that Edmund is aware of Peter's feelings and knows that when he walks into a room and Peter stares at him for a long moment, it's because the image in his head doesn't match up with reality. Not long after they got back from Narnia, after it became clear to both of them that what they had, what they were, couldn't continue now they were in England, Edmund started to avoid Peter. He never seems to be in the same room now - easy enough in the Professor's home and at school, harder when they're back at home. When they are together, Edmund stays quiet and hangs back, out of Peter's line-of-sight.

Peter's not sure if Edmund's ashamed of who he is now - he hopes not. Edmund isn't the one who should be ashamed. Peter's the one who let the magic in the air of Narnia wash away his common sense, and allowed the whole messed up thing to start. Seeing Edmund as a boy again is like a dash of cold water to the face - Edmund's his younger brother, Peter shouldn't be thinking of him in that way at all, whatever age he is. It shouldn't be Edmund's face that he pictures when he touches himself in the dead of night, not even Edmund's face as it will be when he's ten years older than he is now. He shouldn't be thinking of any men like that - he can't bear to think about what his parents would say if they knew.

So when Edmund slips out of a room not long after Peter walks in to it, Peter lets him. It's easier than trying to talk about this, putting words to the fact of what they were, and what they are now, and the unscaleable chasm between the two.

 

****

 

Being back in Narnia is a rush of elation - rushing across the beach, stripping off their uniforms in a way that would never be acceptable at home, and Edmund catches sight of Peter's wide, happy grin. Peter never looks like that in England, he hasn't since they arrived back through the wardrobe. He had turned to Edmund to say something, something about being home maybe, and started as if he had seen a ghost. The words had died in his mouth, unsaid, and after that, he had stopped looking at Edmund unless he had to and stopped seeing him at all when he did.

Now, Edmund feels hope leap in his chest at the sight of Peter's grin - maybe being back in Narnia again means that Peter will look at him and see the king, rather than the boy. He splashes water at Peter's face, laughing as Susan shrieks something about them getting their trousers wet. Peter looks at him, water soaking through his shirt, and just like it has for the last year, his smile dims slightly and a shadow crosses his face. Edmund kicks himself for getting his hopes up - he's still trapped in this little boy's body, after all, and Peter's far too noble to look beyond that.

It feels as if the Narnian sea has lost some of its sunlit dazzle. Even if they stay here long enough for Edmund to grow old enough to remind Peter of what things used to be like between them, they'll inevitably be sent home at the end of it and go back to being children. He's not sure he can cope with Peter turning away from him like that again - it's been all he can do to hold on for this past year without doing something stupid. Sometimes, it's only the memory of what happened last time he let his anger at his family get the better of him that holds him back from just letting all the emotion inside run wild.

For a moment he desperately, selfishly hopes that this brief moment in the Narnian sea is all Aslan lets them have, that they go back to the railway station where, even if Peter can't look him in the eye, Edmund knows he'll at least stay an adult once he gets there.

He goes back to keeping out of Peter's way as they investigate the ruins. Edmund tries to tell himself that that's why he keeps quiet when Peter starts to rip his shirt up for a torch, but really he just wants to see how much of Peter's clothing is going to get lost to the greater cause.

They find their old things, and the first thing that strikes Edmund when he opens his chest is how well-preserved everything is compared to the rest of Cair Paravel. The second thing is how much everything reminds him of being close to Peter. That's the book he was reading when Peter got bored, pulled back the chair Edmund was sitting in and knelt down between his thighs, there's the belt Peter got him for his last birthday before they came back. He's suddenly overwhelmed with an almost unbearable sense of loss, even though Peter is right there beside him, looking in his own chest.

Edmund glances over, and Peter's holding up a blue tunic. "That's mine," says Edmund, surprised.

Peter looks over for a moment, then nods. "Yeah," he says, and throws it over before glancing away.

As Edmund catches it, he has a sudden memory of the last time he'd seen it, scattered with the rest of his clothes over the floor of Peter's bedchamber. No wonder the Narnians had thought it was Peter's. He puts it to one side to put on now, and tries not to remember how it felt to have Peter strip him out of it.

Edmund keeps to the back as they tramp through the woods, where Peter can't see him. Seeing Peter look at him with that jarring, stunned look is even harder now they're back here, and he's happier hanging back to talk to Lucy instead.

 

****

 

Meeting Caspian is a shock. As soon as Peter steps back from the fight and actually looks at him, it feels as if the world has turned over.

Caspian is good-looking. Amazingly good-looking. All Peter's attempts to tell himself that this thing is just Edmund and apart from him it's girls that Peter likes, fly away on the breeze when Caspian fixes his dark eyes on him and asks who they are. Even his voice is sexy, and Peter's swept away by _Oh, God, Father's going to disown me._

He can barely hold his thoughts together in the face of this revelation, and he can tell he's coming across as a fool. Caspian's eyes darken with annoyance, and suddenly it's just like looking into Edmund's eyes. He half turns to check the similarity, and Edmund's glaring at him with almost the same look, but so much younger.

Peter takes a deep breath, and tries to turn his mind more fully to the conversation. The fate of Narnia is at stake - his inner turmoil should take a back seat.

Except his mind can't leave it alone. Later, when he's halfway through discussing strategy with Caspian, all he can think about is how his dark, fine hair might feel. Would it be as soft as Edmund's had been when Peter used to knot his hands in it and pull their mouths hard together?

Caspian's hair is longer than Edmund's ever was, even during the campaign in the mountains of Archenland, against the Calormen, when no one had time for a haircut for months. Longer means girlier, he tries to tell himself. That's why he's attracted to Caspian - it's because he looks like girl. His sub-conscious is not convinced - Caspian's hair might be long, but his body is all sharp planes and angles and almost ridiculously over-developed muscles. Nothing like the daughters of ambassadors that Peter used to have to dance with in another lifetime.

Edmund is avoiding him even more now, although it's nothing anyone else would notice. He stands behind Peter as if backing his brother up, but Peter knows he's really hiding behind him. He disappears off for long hours while the others are relaxing - probably talking to the soldiers. Edmund was always better at connecting with the people than Peter was, knowing how to keep morale up in the worst circumstances.

Peter just wishes he was here with him, keeping Peter's morale up.

 

****

 

Peter is many things, but subtle isn't one of them. Edmund would be surprised if there is anyone left in the Howe who doesn't know that Peter wants Caspian. Of course, pretty much every one else in the Howe seems to want Caspian as well, but then looking pretty seems to be what Caspian does best. Even Edmund finds himself susceptible at odd moments, and he only really goes for blonds.

Still, Peter could at least try to keep a rein on his lingering looks and blatant lust, if only for the sake of keeping the respect of their soldiers. They may be Narnians, but they aren't the same as the Narnians they'd ruled over before. Edmund isn't sure if they'll turn a blind eye to Peter's obvious crush in the same way as the court had when it had been Edmund he'd been staring at and standing too close to.

He works even harder to keep away from Peter, mainly by agreeing to go as the advance guard and take out the all-important first sentry on the attack on the castle. It means that his role in the battle afterwards will be curtailed, but at least he won't have to stand at Peter's side and watch him watching Caspian.

When it comes to it, he instead has to wait on the battlements and know they are off somewhere together, running through castle passageways with adrenaline pulsing through them. He can remember what that was like, and how often it ended with one of them pushing the other against the nearest flat surface. It's almost a relief to throw himself into the fight, back into the familiarity of cut-and-slash, duck-and-parry that still feels weird to be doing in a younger, weaker body, but which is still more familiar than playing cricket or declining Latin has been this past year.

Cornered on the battlements, and he can't bring himself to hope that Peter will come to his rescue - he isn't a child anymore, and he knows it's better to rescue yourself. The last time that he'd waited to be rescued, after all, Aslan had paid for his mistake in blood. He isn't likely to ever forget that.

Leaping from the battlements and hoping that the griffin has seen him and is good enough at flying not to let him fall is almost as scary as the first time he'd kissed Peter, hoping like hell that he wasn't about to get a fist in the face and swift exile to the Lone Islands.

The griffin catches him without even a mid-air fumble, but Edmund's relief is short-lived as they fly back over the castle and he sees the rout of their forces. _Please let Peter be okay,_ he prays, hoping that Lucy is right and that Aslan is around somewhere, watching over them. When they fly over the gate and he sees Peter riding away fast on a horse, he almost loses his grip at the wave of emotion that runs through him.

They fly low over Peter, and Peter glances up. The naked relief flooding his face when he sees Edmund is almost embarrassing to see, and Edmund realises that Peter must have thought he was trapped in the castle, behind the fallen portcullis. He unsteadily raises one hand and gives him a quick salute, then the griffin flies on ahead, leaving Peter to trail behind for once.

 

****

 

Arriving back at the Howe is almost as hard as leaving their men trapped behind the portcullis at the castle. The disappointment on the faces of those who are waiting for their return, and the desperation in their eyes as they search for their loved ones among the survivors, leaves Peter feeling empty and hollow. He glances back again to make sure Edmund is still there, remembering how it had felt to ride away when he was sure that his brother was still trapped inside the castle.

Edmund is beside the horse carrying Trumpkin, talking quietly to him, no doubt saying something reassuring. Peter grits his teeth at the reminder of all the injured, and those who have been left behind, and looks back towards the silent crowd waiting for them.

Arguing with Caspian is almost a relief compared to facing up to that. Taking his anger out on someone else is cathartic, and he finds himself blaming Caspian entirely, for things that aren't really his fault.

 _You're to blame. You distracted me, with your stupid dark eyes and your incredibly shiny hair, and my brother nearly died._ He can remember exactly what Edmund had looked like when he'd been dying before, choking out his last breaths on blood-stained grass. The thought that it might have happened again, without Lucy and her flask to bring him back, sends panic running straight down his spine.

 _If I'd lost him, it would have been your fault,_ he thinks savagely at Caspian, letting his mouth run away with him. He's somehow not surprised when it's Edmund that breaks it up, reminding them all of Trumpkin's injuries. It's almost like old times, back when Edmund would talk him down from some irrational course of action, but then he turns round and it's not his fellow king watching Lucy open her flask, it's his younger brother, and he has to take a deep breath to fight back the feeling of dissonance.

Hours later, when they burst into the shrine-like cave that the Table is in to find Caspian a step away from summoning back the Witch, Peter's anger comes flooding back as if it had never left. It's his worst nightmare, right there in front of him, and he lets rage tear through him, replacing battle-sense, as he attacks the hag.

He's still angry when he faces the witch a few moments later, and when she stretches out her hand to him, he can feel her power twisting it. _Set me free,_ her voice says in his mind, _and you can have your brother back how you want him._ The image in his mind is of Edmund as an adult man again, stretched out naked on Peter's bed at Cair Paravel, one hand twisting around his cock and his eyes fixed steadily on Peter's. Peter finds himself frozen with want, his desires betraying him.

Edmund smashes the ice mirror, and Peter can control himself again. He looks up into his brother's eyes, and Edmund's looking at him as if he knows exactly what was running through his head.

"I know," he says bitterly, "You had it sorted." He turns away before Peter can speak, escaping from his gaze, and Peter is left staring at the engraving of Aslan. Shame fills him, and he bites down hard on his tongue to stop himself saying something he'd regret.

He turns away, and Caspian is looking at him, his dark eyes unreadable. Peter wants to do something stupid like punch him in the face, or push him up against the nearest wall and find out if he kisses as well as Edmund used to. Caspian's eyes narrow, then he turns and looks at Susan, almost deliberately turning his back on Peter.

When Susan stalks out of the chamber, Peter follows her. He's beginning to think that being in Narnia increases all his emotions tenfold. He's been all over the place since he got there, and now he can't even put a finger on what he's feeling, only that it's burning a hole in his stomach.

When Caspian finds him an hour or so later, he's sitting on his own, staring at a wall, trying to sort out his head so that he can think logically and try and work out how they're going to win this. Caspian just stands in the entrance to the cave for a moment, staring at him, and Peter glares back.

"I am sorry for letting them talk me into something so stupid," he says after a moment, and Peter has to blink back his anger at the unexpected apology.

"She's far more evil than your uncle," he finds himself saying.

"I know," says Caspian, not meeting Peter's eyes. "But she...her voice spoke in my mind. It was hard to resist."

Peter nods in understanding, but he adds, "Last time, she killed Edmund," because that's all he's been able to think about. _I almost brought her back, and she killed Edmund. She'd probably have killed him again, for good this time._

Caspian twitches one eyebrow. "He seems very alive still," he says, and Peter can't tell if he's mocking Peter's fears or not.

"So does Trumpkin," says Peter pointedly. Caspian twists his mouth and looks away again.

There is a silence during which Peter waits for Caspian to leave. He doesn't. "She had a hold on you as well," he says instead.

Peter stands up, restless energy surging through him. "She twists things," he admits, and Caspian nods in agreement. Peter thinks that maybe, for the first time, he can really understand why Edmund betrayed them when they first came to Narnia.

He paces across the cave. "She shouldn't have been here at all," he says. "I thought we'd ended her for good."

Caspian tracks his movement with his eyes. "Some things can never truly die," he says after a long silence, and suddenly Peter feels like laughing, although he's sure it would make him sound like a maniac.

He restrains himself, instead stopping in front of Caspian, close enough to see the torchlight reflected in Caspian's eyes. "If Miraz wins, Narnia will die," he says, and Caspian grimaces.

"Then Miraz can not win," he says, simply, and Peter wants to laugh again. Caspian may look older than he does, but he's as naive as a child.

His amusement must show on his face, because Caspian's eyes darken. "We will not let him," he says firmly, and before Peter realises that he's even thinking about it, he's kissing Caspian, grabbing on to his arms and holding him still, even though Caspian doesn't try to run away.

Instead, he opens up to Peter's angry mouth, clasping at Peter's arms in return. He's trying to give as good as he's getting, but he doesn't have the experience that Peter has. Peter pushes Caspian back against the wall of the cave, holding him there while he explores his mouth, just like he used to with Edmund at Cair Paravel, back before everything went wrong.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, it's a shock to find Caspian's dark eyes staring at him instead of Edmund's, and for the first time he really notices the similarity between Caspian and how Edmund looked when he was grown up. How he will look when he grows up again.

He pulls back with a start, putting distance between them. Caspian stares at him, his mouth still hanging half open, and Peter can't help noticing how red his lips are now.

"I shouldn't have done that," he says unsteadily.

Caspian pulls himself together enough to let out a half-laugh. "I'm not complaining."

Peter shakes his head. "No," he says, but can't bring himself to explain. _I shouldn't have done that because my brother will be furious_ isn't a reason he can imagine Caspian understanding.

"We're probably going to die anyway," says Caspian, pushing himself away from the wall, and closer to Peter. Peter wonders where his optimism went. Maybe Caspian's head is as muddled as Peter's, hope and pessimism fighting to gain the upper hand.

Peter steps back towards the door. "We'll think of something," he says firmly. "We always do. Aslan..."

Caspian cuts through what he was going to say with a bark of laughter. "Aslan is nowhere," he says. "He's not going to suddenly appear and save us."

"No," agrees Peter, "but then we haven't exactly asked him to yet." That's a new thought, and he finds himself wondering exactly what it means. Aslan didn't seem to need to be asked last time, but then everything is different now.

Caspian shakes that away, and steps closer to Peter again. "If we are going to die tomorrow," he says, "I do not want to leave this half-finished."

Peter backs away. "There's nothing to finish," he says harshly. "It's done." He leaves as fast as he can, before Caspian can tempt him again.

He strides away, down random passages, not sure where he's going. He passes through a cavern full of centaurs, and Edmund is there. Edmund glances over as Peter strides through, then stares at him, and Peter knows that somehow he knows what Peter has done. Peter feels shame creeping through him again, bile rising in his throat. He can't do this kind of thing with Edmund, not as he is now, but that doesn't mean he can do it with anyone else either. He turns away and goes to the one place he's sure he can be alone, by the stone table. Both Edmund and Caspian will avoid going there again now.

He stares up at the carving of Aslan, and wonders what he should do. He remembers sitting this way before, when the enormity of what he and Edmund were doing had come clear to him, and he'd needed to sit still and work through the fact that he was in love with his brother. This time, he's trying to get his head around the fact that the man he's in love with is just a boy again, and it'll be at least five years before he becomes the only person that Peter will ever want.

After a while, Lucy joins him. He's never been sure just how much the girls know, or guess about him and Edmund, but from the look on her face she knows there's more going on than the impending battle and the shock of seeing the Witch again. Sitting with her reminds him of how she used to sit by him in silence when he had a difficult political decision to make, after all the discussion and arguments had been gone through and there was nothing left but for him to pick a path. Back then she was older, but her presence still has the calming effect it had then, helping him cut through the emotional turmoil in his brain in order to sort out the important truths.

Edmund isn't who he used to be, but then neither is Peter. They can't ever go back, and maybe it's time to face that going forward means learning to see who Edmund is now and who he'll be when he grows up for good, back in England. Certainly looking for substitutes isn't going to work, even if they are as good-looking as Caspian. He can't shake off the shame that comes with the memory of kissing Caspian.

He's distracted from following this train of thought to its end when Edmund comes in, almost hesitantly, and tells them they need to see what's coming outside.

 

****

 

Edmund can barely think through the war council that precedes the battle. Everyone is trying to come up with ways to defeat a superior force that has siege weapons that could transform the Howe into a pile of rubble in no time at all, but all Edmund can do is stare at Caspian's reddened mouth, and the way Peter never quite seems to meet his eyes, even when they're discussing how to get Susan and Lucy away.

He's so jealous he can barely breathe, and he wants to hit Caspian, stake his claim on Peter with a hard kiss, but he can't. He's just Peter's little brother now, after all, and he's pretty sure that if he did kiss Peter, all he'd get would be the punch he was expecting the first time he kissed him.

He's not really paying attention when he agrees to take Peter's challenge to the Telmarines, but he's glad to escape the chamber and the tension between Peter and Caspian. Lucy catches his eye on the way out, and gives him a sympathetic look. Edmund grits his teeth and hopes he's only that obvious to her.

Miraz is annoyingly condescending, and Edmund gets a kick out of reminding him that he's a king, not just a prince. _That's more than Caspian can say, anyway,_ he thinks smugly. He's not surprised when Miraz accepts - faced with the reality of Edmund's youth, it would be hard for him to refuse, as if Peter was someone to be scared of, especially as the lords were clearly already starting to plot behind his back.

Helping Peter get into his armour is just like old times, even if neither of them can really find anything to say. Edmund concentrates on tightening buckles, and avoiding Peter's eyes.

"Edmund," Peter says hoarsely, as Edmund hands him his shield. Edmund looks at him then, and raises one eyebrow, but Peter doesn't seem to have anything to say.

Edmund nods as if he knows what Peter was going to say. "Good luck," he says. "Don't let yourself be distracted." The last bit comes out more bitter than he meant it to, and Peter swallows as if he's been rebuked and takes the shield.

"Let's go," he says, and Edmund follows him, one pace behind, so that Peter can concentrate on getting his head in the right place, and pretend that his brother is the man he's used to having backing him up during a battle, instead of a boy he can barely stand to look at.

Watching Peter fight is just as hard as it's always been, especially when he's not allowed to step in and help. Peter's out of practice, and his body is younger than he's used to, and weaker after a year of being an English schoolboy. Edmund believes in his brother, and he remembers how good he was at sword-fighting before, but he can't control the fear that Peter will make a wrong move, and this will all end here and now.

It doesn't help that Caspian's beside him, watching with just as much attention, and he's touched Peter, got to kiss him, and it's been so long since Edmund has been close to Peter like that. Just before their hunt for the white stag, he'd pushed Peter back into a stall in the stables, and kissed him as thoroughly as he could, with a whispered promise of more if they managed to catch the stag. That had been the last time Peter had looked at him with longing, rather than faint self-disgust.

Edmund hears the pop of Peter's shoulder dislocating, and winces. He knows exactly who's going to have to put that back in, because he doubts Caspian's got a clue what to do. There's a rest break, and Peter collapses down on the chair. Edmund busies himself with the necessary things, and tries to ignore how tired his brother looks already, or how battered he is.

Peter's not as ready to pretend though, and he starts saying something that sounds horribly like a good bye speech. Edmund takes great pleasuring in choosing that moment to put his shoulder back in place, his rage that Peter would allow himself that measure of giving up lending him strength.

"Save it for later," he grits out, hoping that there'll be a later, if only so he can smack Peter round the head for acting like a fool. Giving up before the very end is the best way to lose a battle, and they both know that. He glances over at Susan and the archers who are watching the fight, and sees the uncertainty and the doubt on their faces. They're not going to get anywhere with their plan if their soldiers think they've already lost, so he makes Peter smile and wave to them, hoping that it will remind Peter as much as the crowd that they're fighting for Narnia, and losing is not an option.

 

****

 

The battle's over, and they've won. They ride to the castle to prepare for Caspian's coronation, and when Peter slides off his horse he has to pause for a very long moment, resting his head on its flanks. His shoulder is killing him, he's sure at least three of his ribs are broken, and the fatigue of hours spent fighting, wearing full armour, then galloping halfway across the country all catches up with him at once.

Edmund's right behind him though, and he puts one hand on Peter's back. "Come on, Pete," he says quietly. "Let's go and get you patched up."

Peter turns round gratefully and smiles tiredly. "The usual victory celebration?" he says. It's an old joke between them, from before. In books and films the victors always seemed to immediately have a feast, but the reality is that all you wanted after winning a battle is a long bath, clean clothes, and a soft bed.

Edmund smiles back, and Peter looks in his eyes and sees the man he used to know hiding inside this boy's body. "I'll see if I can find someone to boil you water for a bath," he says, and the warm feeling rising up in Peter threatens to choke him.

"Ed," he starts, "what I was going to say before..." but Edmund shakes his head and steps away.

"Tomorrow," he says firmly. "Plenty of time for emotions when we're not worn out and sweaty."

Peter nods, and lets himself be distracted by the promise of hot water.

It's not that easy, though. The next day he goes to find Edmund and gets caught up in the planning for the coronation, discussions about who should be allowed to attend out of the Telmarine lords, and who should crown Caspian, and how they should play the fact that there was already four monarchs of Narnia here already.

When they break it up, Lucy takes Susan out to the orchards to see if they can't reawaken some of the trees, and Edmund slips out of a side door. Peter goes to follow him, but Caspian catches his arm.

"This is," he says awkwardly, and then takes a deep breath. "Are you sure this is necessary? I mean, you are the High King, and the others...you could just stay."

Peter looks him in the eye, and sees the desperation he remembers feeling when he first got told he had to run a country. Caspian doesn't even have any siblings to help him, only an aunt who probably hates him, and a baby cousin who'll grow into a threat to his throne, unless they find a way to break the vicious cycle of their family.

"We'll be going soon," he says, knowing it's true without Aslan having to say anything. This time the battle heralds a golden age lead by Caspian, not by the Pevensies, and they'd only be in the way. He hasn't needed to see Aslan's solemn look when he sees them to know what he wants to talk to him and Susan about.

"You could stay," says Caspian.

Peter shakes his head. "You'll be a good king," he says, hoping it'll be true. "Just make sure you have the right people around you." He pulls his arm out of Caspian's grip, and heads for the door that Edmund left through.

"You will not finish our business first?" asks Caspian loudly - almost too loudly, as if he wasn't sure he was going to say it until he did.

Peter turns back for a moment, and looks into his eyes, so close to Edmund's but not quite enough. "We've nothing to finish," he says and goes to find the business he should have dealt with a year ago.

Edmund is in Doctor Cornelius's room. Peter isn't surprised - even in England he's drawn to books. He glances up at Peter as he comes in, and then back down at a picture he's holding.

"They gloss over it," he says.

"Gloss over what?" asks Peter, coming closer in so he can see what Edmund's looking at. It's a picture of the four of them on horseback, riding through a wood. Both he and Edmund have beards in the picture, and for a moment he misses the scratch of Edmund's beard against his skin so much that he can't breathe.

"My betrayal," says Edmund, putting the picture down. "The stories all make it sound as if all I did was get lost in the woods and wander into her castle by accident."

Peter's not sure what to say. He knows that the betrayal weighed heavy on Edmund's mind long after his siblings had forgiven him and largely forgotten about it in the rush of all the new things they had to learn.

"People always edit out the dirty bits of history," he says eventually.

Edmund snorts. "Yeah," he agrees. "It almost makes me want to write down a true account of what happened."

"No," says Peter. "Let them believe it was easier than it was. Mythical heroes should be larger than life, after all."

Edmund laughs shortly and stands up, leaning against the desk. He looks at Peter and he's struck all over again by how wrong it is that Edmund is shorter than him. He should be looking up into dark eyes, and his brain flashes on that moment before he'd kissed Caspian.

That had been wrong though, just as wrong as kissing Edmund now would be when Edmund's so young. He turns slightly and leans next to Edmund, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is that how you remember us?" asks Edmund softly. "Larger than life?"

Peter knows what he's really asking. "We were all different then," he says, meaning _older_.

"Not so different," says Edmund quietly, but he doesn't add anything else, and just stares at the wall.

"Before," says Peter awkwardly, "I meant it. You've always been there, beside me, and..."

"God," breaks in Edmund, "Please don't thank me for just being your brother."

"I'm not," insists Peter. "I just...this last year, it's been hard, and...you've coped with it better than I have."

"We're so young now," says Edmund in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Yeah," agrees Peter. He's younger now than Edmund was when he took the risk that Peter had been too afraid to take, and kissed his brother in a way that left no ambiguity about his intentions. For the first time he wonders what Edmund sees when he looks at him, whether he's able to reconcile the adult Peter with who he is now. Peter's still older than Edmund though, and he's close enough to an adult to pretend he's still the man he was. Edmund doesn't have that luxury, with most of his teenage years still to live over again.

"We'll be going back," says Edmund, "very soon. Is it...back in England. We'll grow up." It's disjointed, but Peter knows what he means.

"England is different," he says firmly. However old they get, he can't face the idea of doing that in the same land that his parents live in, somewhere without enchantment in the air clouding rationality and enhancing emotions until something that they both should know is wrong becomes the best idea they've ever had.

"Not that different," argues Edmund. "We'll be the same men, eventually."

"We won't be kings," Peter reminds him, because he can't explain all the differences between Narnia and England and it seems easier just to simplify it.

Edmund shrugs. "It's not your 'magnificence' that makes me want it," he says, loading the word with more sarcasm than Peter thought was possible, "Or the way you look in a crown."

Peter doesn't have an answer to that, because he knows Edmund is right. Even in England, if he's faced with Edmund as a man, as the man he spent so many nights sleeping beside, he's not sure he'll be able to hold firm on this. He's got to at least try, though, because it may be hard to remember in Narnia, but this thing could only lead to pain and misery for both of them back home.

When a few minutes have passed without him saying anything, Edmund stands properly and walks out the door without looking back. Peter watches him go. He's not sure they've really resolved anything, but somehow the air feels clearer between them anyway.

 

****

 

Caspian's angry with Peter. He's keeping it locked away pretty tightly, but Edmund can read it in the way his eyes turn hard when he looks at Peter, and the agitation in his movements when they talk, even if the conversation sounds normal.

When they realise that it's time to go home, and Peter and Susan tell them that they're not coming back to Narnia, Edmund thinks that Caspian will say something then. Instead, he glances at Peter for a long moment, then concentrates on talking with Susan. If such nauseating flirting could be called talking, and Edmund's pretty sure it can't. Being attracted to women is clearly just not worth it if you have to talk to them like that in order to get their attention.

When they kiss, Edmund notices Caspian open his eyes briefly and fix them on Peter. Edmund glances at his brother, and Peter's looking away, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

"I'm sure when I'm older, I'll understand," says Lucy, sounding slightly disturbed.

Edmund meets Peter's eyes. "I'm older and I don't think I want to understand," he says, and is petty enough to be satisfied when the barb shoots home, even if Peter tries to cover his reaction with amusement.

Susan heads back to them looking satisfied and blushing faintly. Edmund wonders how she's let herself be so blinded that she can't tell that Caspian aimed that kiss more at her older brother than at her.

And then they're back in England again, back on the station platform as if nothing had happened. For a moment Edmund thinks nothing has, and it's all been just an extended hallucination, then he catches the dazed look in Peter's eyes as he looks around, and he knows that if it was, it was at least a group hallucination.

They board the train in a hurry, and Edmund can see the realisation that they're never going back to Narnia is really starting to hit Susan and Peter now that they're home. He tries to distract them by mentioning leaving his torch there, but he can tell from their silence during the train journey that he's not really succeeded.

He can't imagine what it must be like to know they're never going back, but he thinks it might feel a bit like knowing that you're going back, but without one of the reasons you loved being there so much in the first place. He tries not to look at Peter, in case his thoughts show in his eyes.

It's okay though, because Peter isn't looking at him. He's staring out the train window as if the rushing dark of the tunnel wall is showing him the secrets of the universe.

Dimly, Edmund's aware of Susan fending off the clumsy advances of some kid who seems to think her name is Phyllis, so he steps closer to Peter and says, quietly, "Feeling different now we're back?"

Peter looks at him for a long time, eyes boring straight into Edmund's, then he looks back out the window. "Ask me in five years," he says.

Edmund feels the faint stirring of hope, and smiles to himself. Maybe in five years he'll find the courage to skip the talking, and just kiss Peter again. And maybe, Peter will let him. That would be something worth looking forward to.


End file.
